Gemotions

The afternoon sun, usually a source of warmth, felt oppressive against Clara's skin. Across the country. Across the horizon. From Olivia. Olivia’s voice had been tight, her words a series of quick, clipped syllables. Clara sat down on the edge of the bed.

A deep fatigue settled in her bones, making each movement feel like an exercise in futility. She wanted nothing more than to curl up under the covers and disappear. She glanced at the clock, the passing seconds slow and deliberate.

She didn't know how she was going to get through the rest of the day, let alone the coming months. The thought of all the farewells, the packing, the goodbyes, felt like a mountain of stone.